


Keep An Open Mind

by bestliars



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Awkwardness, Enthusiastic Consent, First Time, Height Differences, Houston Aeros, M/M, Minnesota Wild, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 11:58:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestliars/pseuds/bestliars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is different, but not bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep An Open Mind

**Author's Note:**

> This is set towards the end of the 2010-11 AHL regular season, in San Antonio, but you don’t need to know that. Really, you don’t need to know anything except for maybe that Marco Scandella is six three, and Jared Spurgeon is “generously listed at five nine.”
> 
> Betaed by Stellarer, who is the best, seriously, without her this would be a disaster.

It happens fast. At least, it feels like it does.

Really, if he were thinking clearly he would be able to see how it’s been building for a while now, but he isn’t thinking clearly, because Marco has him pinned to the wall.

Marco has him pinned to the wall, and if he’s reading the signals right, in a minute they’re going to kiss, or do something.

He’s a bit floored down by the potential in their current situation. They have bodies, bodies that fit together well. This is something they can explore, something they _should_ explore. In a minute. They can stay how they are for another minute more, or maybe even longer. Just like they are is pretty good.

Marco has him up against the wall, but isn’t using the advantage he has in height and muscle as much as he could. Marco is just pressing him there, crowding into his space, seeing how close they can possibly be. That’s good enough for now, but they can do better. They’re getting better. Marco’s hands creep up Jared’s sides, firm and big, hot against his skin. He pushes, just a bit, so Jared’s back is firmly against the wall.

“This is okay, right?” Marco asks.

“God, yes,” Jared says, and with that affirmation Marco takes the last half step closer, surging forward until Jared is thoroughly trapped.

It isn’t the best angle, their hips don’t line up right, and it’s a stretch to kiss, but Jared enjoys the way Marco’s hands travel across his skin, searching for tender places. The wall behind him is solid. It won’t let him move away. Neither will Marco. These are good things.

Jared throws his arms around Marco’s shoulders to pull himself up, getting up on his tiptoes to pull them into a better kiss. If Jared had thought about this before — which he hasn't, not much, not on purpose — if he had thought about what it would be like to kiss Marco, he would have thought it would be just like this: overwhelming.

Part of it is the simple fact that Marco is significantly larger than him and physically capable of controlling the situation. The other factor is how well they can read each other, instincts that bleed over from playing together. They know how long to kiss, and when it’s time to breathe.

Jared lets his shirt get pushed up over his ribs, lets Marco’s big hands settle on his chest. First he arches into the touch, then pulls away so he can lose the layer. Marco moves just far enough away to shed his own shirt as well. Suddenly there’s all this bare skin, which isn’t anything special or new. They change in front of each other all the time. Other things are new, the touching is new, but all the skin is familiar. Then they're back together for another kiss. It’s at the perfect angle for Jared to plant his mouth on Marco's vulnerable neck, biting playfully before running his tongue over the space. Marco groans and falls forward, losing his footing in a way that puts his full weight into pinning Jared back against the wall. 

Jared stops to take a breath. Marco steadies himself, then smiles down at Jared and says, "I have an idea."

This all started with one of Marco's ideas, so Jared's inclined to go along with whatever this new breakthrough might be.

“Alright,” he agrees, interested in seeing where this goes.

"Awesome,” Marco says.

The next move is Marco's hands landing on Jared's hips, getting a good hold and then lifting, partly using the wall as leverage. Instinctively Jared wraps his legs around Marco's waist, bringing them closer and helping them balance. Their chests are pressed together, skin against skin. It makes kissing easy. There's no strain to reach, only a comfortable distance for their mouths to meet, hot and wet, endlessly, or at least until they need to breathe.

It's different. Jared's used to girls; pretty girls; girls who are at least a little bit smaller than him; girls who let him lead the way; girls who kiss gently and can't hold him still. Girls who aren't anything like Marco, who's his teammate, a man, and holding him up against a wall.

It doesn’t matter what he’s used to, this is good.

They kiss, and roll their hips together, and it’s very good, and for the most part Jared feels certain that they’re not going to fall over. He’s still happy when Marco puts him down, barely letting him get steady on his feet before spinning them around and pushing Jared back onto one of the beds.

He’s barely settled when Marco licks his hand and then shoves it down Jared’s shorts. It’s a little bit abrupt, but it still feels good, something to press into. The idea that sex is graceful or smooth is just bullshit. In his experience it’s a lot of awkwardness, hopefully with someone who can laugh along about how weird it is. Maybe he just isn’t a romantic, and maybe that’s why he isn’t dating anyone right now (unless he’s dating Marco now, which would be weird, but maybe great? But they can have that conversation in the morning). It doesn’t matter, because they seem to be on the same page tonight, agreeing that it’s good to make each other feel good, and not worrying about making stupid faces or whatever.

Marco knows what he’s doing, which makes sense, because he has a cock too. A handjob is just masturbation from another point of view. Jared doesn’t know if Marco has experience with guys before this (another thing they could talk about in the morning), but he seems comfortable.

Jared wouldn’t say he’s comfortable exactly, he’s a bit overwhelmed, and if they slowed down to think about it he might freak out, but he’s enjoyed everything that’s happened so far, so they should just keep going. He can figure out what it all means — if it means anything — in the morning.

Right now it’s enough to arch his hips and gasp a little.

They both get their pants pushed down their thighs, which is enough to slide their dicks together. It’s not too slick, it would be better with lotion or lube, but Jared doubts that either of them are going to last long enough to make it worth the effort of breaking apart to find something. There’s precome spread between them which helps.

They’re getting a good rhythm going, moving together, not quite in sync yet, but getting there. They’re getting closer, it’s getting hotter, it’s getting _better._ It’s starting to seem ordinary, or at least significantly less strange, but then it all stops.

“This is good, right?” Marco asks. “Like, um—”

Jared cuts him off. “It’s fine. It’s good. Fuck. Stop asking questions. Keep going. I want this too. So yeah, it’s good, just — don’t stop.”

“Okay, okay,” Marco says. His hand speeds up, and Jared’s gonna have a hell of a hickey to explain in the morning, and he doesn’t care at all, he just wants more of this — the heat of skin against skin, and the near desperation to keep going, the impossible hope that it could go on forever.

It can’t. It’s too good, building heat in his belly. 

He comes, and it’s white noise — pleasure, shaky breaths, endorphins — he doesn’t have the language for what’s going on in his head that makes his body feel good, but he appreciates it. He likes the signals that are getting sent out, the way it makes him shiver and shudder.

It fades, and he regains the ability to understand the world outside of his orgasm. Marco is still half on top of him, jerking off and watching intently.

Too intently maybe. Jared looks away. Now he’s looking at Marco’s cock, which is still hard, and only half covered by his hand. It’s awkward. It seems like he should look away, but...

He doesn’t have to. They’re doing this. This isn’t a locker room, this is their hotel room, where they are having sex.

And it’s hot. Marco’s hard cock and bare skin and Houston tan and firm muscles are hot, and that isn’t something Jared is entirely comfortable with, but it’s true.

Hot and messy and awkward but not uncomfortable — that’s what good sex is supposed to be. And it was good sex for Jared, the come cooling on his belly is evidence of that. He wants it to be good for Marco too.

He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but it doesn’t really matter, he should try. He reaches out, covers Marco’s hand with his own. He matches the rhythm Marco has going. Marco moves his own hand away, bringing his arm across his face to muffle his voice so their teammates in the rooms on either side won’t hear. Marco is thrusting into Jared’s hand, all Jared needs to do is be there. With his other hand he reaches out to hold onto Marco’s side, hoping to add stability, or comfort, or something, anything that makes it better. Marco speeds up, and Jared accommodates the change.

Marco looks good like this, on the edge of desperate. Jared likes it a lot. 

He realizes that he could kiss Marco, realizes that he _wants_ to kiss Marco, that it’s something he wants more than anything else. It isn’t awkward to kiss, hot and wet, a messy kiss, a _hard_ kiss. Kissing gives Jared a reason to close his eyes, and that makes it better. There’s less to pay attention to, no visuals, just skin and heat and the sounds of their bodies: breathing and heartbeats — they are pressed so close that Jared can hear Marco’s racing heartbeat, sped up by the sex they’re having, sex which is a thing they’re doing _right now,_ and something they’ll have to talk about in the morning.

But not right now. Talking is for after. Right now they are still in the middle, even if the ending will be coming soon.

Marco is swearing under his breath, in English, and French, and what Jared assumes is Italian, but might just be gibberish. The barrage of profanity is flattering. Jared isn’t sure what he’s doing, but apparently it’s effective. The words he does understand include _more_ , and _yes,_ and _fuck,_ and _good god._

Marco presses into Jared’s hand, he’s breathing heavily, and then it seems like he isn’t breathing at all, one last deep breath before he’s coming in Jared’s hand. Marco has his eyes closed. Jared strokes him through it. He’s never touched someone else’s come before. It seems like this should feel stranger than it does. 

He picks up his t-shirt from the floor and wipes his hand on it. It’s a little bit gross, but basically the same behavior that has been part of his life since puberty. He tosses it back on the floor, where it can get ignored until morning.

Marco blinks at him. They aren’t going to say anything. Jared doesn’t know any words he’d want to use. They’ll talk later.

They’re lying together on top of the covers, still naked, and it should be awkward, but isn’t, at least not yet. It’s hot outside, but the air conditioning is decent. Marco gives off warmth in a pleasant way. Jared isn’t in any hurry to move away.

This was good. Jared wouldn't mind if they did this again. He still isn't sure what it means for them; that's a conversation they're going to have to face in the morning. Jared isn't dreading it as much as he thought he might. He doesn't know what Marco is looking for, if it was all about exploring the novel ways their bodies could fit together but hadn't before, or if there were more serious feelings behind his decision to initiate a kiss. 

Jared will be fine either way. It was good sex, if that's all it comes down to. And if Marco's interested in something other than a one off, if he's interested in _dating_ , or whatever they might want to call it, well — Jared has seen the positive outcomes of keeping an open mind. 

Yes, it was different. Yes, it was strange. No, it wasn't anything he expected. That doesn't mean it's bad. It wasn't bad at all.

**Author's Note:**

> This was what I had at the start of the doc as I worked on this thing:
> 
> I don't actually ship this on a character level, not really, but I'm really into the height difference.
> 
> Really, I don't ship this, it's just the height difference/aesthetics.
> 
> ok, so maybe I ship this. but I don't want to. because Jared Spurgeon is married and has a small child, and I like those facts, but...basically, I ship this. Kind of.
> 
> Ok, so I really ship this, super much, but grudgingly so.
> 
> I ship this but I don't want to ship this. I want to write stories about them being bff, and Spurge being responsible and Marco making fun of him for acting like he's old even though he isn't. but I don't actually want to write that story. I want that story to exist, but I am unwilling to invest writing energy into it, while this whole story/snippet/scene/whatever has just happened to me. How little I want to ship this is fueling the writing of this story, which doesn’t really make sense, but I think that's what's happened. The more I think about how I don't ship it, the more I end up writing.
> 
> FINE, I SHIP IT. STUPID SEXY PLAYOFF PARTNERS. Just be like this alllllll the time please.
> 
> Why am I still writing this, writing smut is so difficult, w h y. I hate everything.
> 
> If Ballard means they aren’t playing together I’m going start irrationally hating Ballard, no lie. Well, really, I am all lies. So who knows.
> 
> All of this is a bad idea. Why am I still writing this. It’s going to be over 2000 words. FUCK.
> 
> I totally ship it. Second pairing of irrational feelings and impressive height difference. <3


End file.
